Five Times
by One More Disaster
Summary: Five times Eliot's team met his wife, one time they didn't and possibly one time they didn't have to. Female Dean. (Repost from my old account, Gu4rd14n-Kn1ghts.)
1. The Hustle Job

**Title: **Five Times  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any person, place or thing you may recognize.  
**Rating: **M  
**Warnings: **language; female Dean; canon style violence  
**Fandoms: **_Leverage _and _Supernatural; _minor _Angel_ crossover in one part  
**Spoilers: **potential spoilers for the first 3 seasons of _Leverage_ and the first 5 seasons of _Supernatural  
_**Pairing: **Eliot Spencer/Deana Winchester  
**Summary: **Five times Eliot's team met his wife, one time they didn't and possibly one time they didn't have to.  
**Author's Note: **So, this was originally just going to be a story about how Eliot's team met his wife. Unfortunately, I had way too many ideas on how to go about writing the story. So, instead, I decided to make this one of those five times stories. It's entirely possible that it may turn into more than that, depending on how many different ideas I come up with as I'm writing.

The first, second and third pieces take place somewhere between _On the Head of a Pin_ and _Lucifer Rising_. The fourth takes place sometime after season five, but disregards _Swan Song_ and assumes that the Winchesters and Castiel found some other way to stop the Apocalypse.  
**Edit: **So, I originally posted this over on my other account, Gu4rd14n-Kn1ghts, but two years ago, I decided that I wanted to condense both of my accounts into one, so I've been in the process of deleting, editing and reposting all of my works from that account.

Overall, the first four chapters should be mostly the same. For the most part, I just cleaned them up a bit and fixed a couple of things that I didn't really like the first time around.

Anyway, let me know what y'all think.

Fae

* * *

**Title: **The Hustle Job  
**Spoilers: **specific spoilers for _The Stork Job, The 12 Step Job, The First David Job, The Second David Job, The Beantown Bailout Job_ and _The Tap Out Job_, and vague spoilers for the rest of the first season of _Leverage_; specific spoilers for _Skin, The Usual Suspects,_ and _Nightshifter_ and, and vague spoilers for the rest of seasons 1-4 of _Supernatural_  
**Word Count:** 4,287

Eliot walked into the bar with the rest of his team. Normally, they celebrated a successful job by going out to a fancy restaurant. He never felt entirely comfortable in those situations, and this job had been harder on him than normal. He hadn't been in a situation like that for a very long time.

Being in that ring, letting that guy pound on him, had gone against every survival instinct he had cultivated over the years. Letting that rage go so he could sell the fact that he had lost control, but pulling it back just enough to keep from actually killing the guy had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.

The rest of the team had recognized that he was struggling and needed to wind down in his own way, so they had let him pick the place tonight. He hadn't really known where he'd pick. He had just been driving, knowing he'd know what he was looking for when he found it.

It was odd driving Nate's car with Sophie in the front while Nate rode in the van with Hardison and Parker.

He had to admit, he kinda liked it. He didn't have Hardison blabbering on about the tech marvels he had pulled off during the con (regardless of the fact that he hadn't actually been able to do much on this one; hack a hick indeed), nor did he have Parker staring at him and the bruises he knew were blooming on his face.

He and Sophie had had a moment last night and the Grifter was giving him the silent support that he needed right now. He had never been more appreciative of the woman than he was right now.

He really hoped no one asked why he ended up choosing this particular place. He had no idea what he'd say. He couldn't tell them the real reason. Hardison would laugh at him and Parker would follow suit (if only because she didn't understand and was only laughing because Hardison was). Nate would stare at him with that inscrutable look that he wore when puzzling over a particularly difficult problem. Sophie would-

Well, he wasn't sure what Sophie would do. She could go either way.

Regardless, he had seen a car he thought he recognized as he drove past and pulled in. He had gotten a look at the black car as the team made their way into the building. It looked exactly like the one he thought it was. Same make, same model. Hell, same year, even.

But the license plate wasn't the same and he knew there was no way she would have traded in her Kansas plates. In spite of it all, she was proud of her Midwest roots.

He sighed dejectedly and collected drinks for everyone, nodding to the man waiting next to him as he left.

"Now, why am I so not surprised that the rough and rowdy biker club is your scene?" Hardison asked as Eliot approached the table the team had chosen.

He ignored the Hacker, sitting with his back to the wall and a good view of most of the bar. His instincts had been riding him hard all week and he wasn't going to ignore them again.

He sat in silence, nursing his beer.

He knew it had been stupid to get his hopes up about the car. Rumor was that she was dead, but he had hoped that-

He shook his head.

She was good, sure. But there was always someone better in their line of work. Plus, she was tiny. Good, but tiny. It was possible to overwhelm her and turn her size into a liability instead of an asset. It happened far more often than she liked and he was comfortable with, even though she always managed to worm her way out of trouble in the end.

Parker's voice suddenly cut into his musings. "She's not bad."

"Hm?" he asked, glancing over at the Thief.

"The girl with the darts. She's hustling them. Doing pretty good, too. Pretending she doesn't know how to play. She's got them completely hooked."

The whole team looked towards the dartboard. They never passed up the opportunity to observe other thieves. Even if they thought hustling in bars was for amateurs.

The rest of them, at any rate.

Eliot used to hustle in bars all the time. Usually as part of a bigger con. Him and-

His eyes widened fractionally when he spotted the girl Parker was talking about. He hadn't been imagining things. That really had been the car. He just couldn't believe she had finally gotten rid of the hick plates.

He took a swig of his beer to hide his grin from the team as he observed her.

He recognized this game. It had been one of their favorites. He wondered if she had a new partner helping her out. That made his grin dim slightly. He didn't see anyone around the bar who seemed a likely candidate, but that didn't mean she didn't have one.

He watched as she threw a dart, getting the wall, about a foot from the board.

"She's brilliant," Sophie said as the next throw hit the outer ring. "They have no clue she's playing them."

Eliot hid a smirk behind his bear this time. She had been decent enough before they had met, but he had taught her everything he knew, making them an unbeatable team.

"She's not bad," Parker said again. "But if I were her, I'd just lift the whole wallet. More money that way. Less risk."

She threw the last dart and hit the bullseye with the perfect amount of surprise and excitement. She bounced on her toes and latched onto the man who had been teaching her, laughing excitedly.

Eliot shook his head slightly. "It ain't about the money, Parker," he said, draining his beer. "It's about the game." He set the bottle on the table and headed towards the game, watching as she went over to the board and collected the darts, returning to the guy.

"_What are- Eliot, what the hell are you doing?" _Nate demanded.

Eliot rolled his eyes and ignored him. He wished Nate hadn't insisted on them wearing the coms everywhere when they were on a job- which technically they still were, since they hadn't left town yet. He didn't want the team in his ear right now.

"I can't believe I hit it!" she gushed, latching back onto the man's arm. "You're an incredible teacher."

"I'll give you three K if you can do that with your next three throws," Eliot said, cutting into the conversation.

"_Eliot!" _Sophie hissed in his ear.

"Stay out of this," he hissed back, not moving his lips.

He waited. Her response would tell him what was going on.

She turned her head to look at him, taking in his face and the yellowing bruises before meeting his gaze and taking a step in his direction. He could feel four pairs of eyes on his back from his table and half a dozen other pairs from various places around the room.

He reckoned those were the rest of the thugs, which brought the total up to an even baker's dozen. Terrific. When they got out of this, he was so kicking her ass.

"That's impossible. She only just learned how to play. That last shot was just a lucky throw," the man said.

Both of them ignored him, maintain eye contact with each other as she took another step closer to him. She suddenly threw the darts at the board, one right after another, without looking away from him.

Eliot smirked. His favorite version. But he was definitely kicking her ass after this.

"Cough it up, Cowboy," she said, stepping closer and holding her hand out for the cash.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundreds. He put it in her hand, ignoring the sputtering in his ear from his team.

"Th- that's impossible," the man sputtered.

She turned and slipped the money into her jacket pocket. When she removed her hand, she slid it behind her back, letting the close proximity of their bodies hide the transfer of a round, palm sized object.

At the same time, Eliot brought up a webpage on his phone.

"Not when you're this good," he said. He held up the phone, showing off the news story of her winning the local dart competition back in Kentucky thirteen years ago.

"You were hustling me? For a hundred bucks?" the man demanded, half outraged and half shocked.

She let out a chuckle. "It wasn't about the money, Sweetheart," she said, mimicking Eliot's southern accent.

The guy frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Eliot decided to help him out. He held up the stone she had slipped him.

"I just needed ya distracted fer a little bit."

"You little-"

"Now, now. Didn't yer mama ever tell ya not ta cuss when there's a lady present?"

"She's no lady." The man nodded and his goons attacked.

They fell into an easy rhythm, as if they had never parted ways, guarding each others' back as they eliminated the men. The rest of the patrons cleared out, leaving just Eliot's friends, although they- thankfully- stayed out of the way.

The goons finally managed to separate them, sending them rolling in opposite directions of the bar. Eliot rolled to his feet, but froze when he saw that the five remaining men had guns aimed at her. She giggled and Eliot couldn't hold back his smirk.

"What's so funny?" the man demanded.

"Oh, nothing. I just really don't like guns," Eliot said.

"Give me the stone, or she gets a chest full of lead."

Eliot shrugged. "I'd like ta help ya fellas. I really would. But I seem ta have misplaced it in the fight." He turned out his pockets.

"Search him."

One of the goons approached and he stood still, letting himself be searched.

"He doesn't have it."

"Then where-"

The man cut himself off, noticing that she had been inching towards the door.

"Lookin' for this, Sweetheart?" she asked with a smirk, holding up the stone. She ducked out the door as the men opened fire.

"_Damn. She _is_ good," _Parker muttered. _"I didn't even see her lift it. And in the middle of a fight, too."_

Eliot took advantage of the distraction to take out the man who had searched him, using him as a shield against the bullets. Three of the men managed to get out the door after her, but he took out the last one, snapping his neck.

"Like I said, I really don't like guns," he said, letting the man drop to the ground. He ignored the others and took off out the door.

They followed him and all five of them caught up to her in time to watch her gut the last man, letting him drop to the ground at her feet.

She met Eliot's eyes. "I'll get the car."

Unfortunately, this time he couldn't stay and guard the bodies. "Two more back at the bar," he said.

She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged.

"Told 'em I didn't like guns. They fired anyway."

She shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Stay here. We'll be back," Eliot said, looking at his team. Fortunately, it appeared that they were all still in shock at the casual way the two of them had killed those men and no one protested.

She and Eliot walked back to the bar in silence. She grabbed a tarp out of the trunk of the Impala and followed him into the bar. They wrapped the two bodies in the tarp and loaded them into the back of the van before driving both vehicles back to the others.

She grabbed another tarp and they loaded the other three bodies in with the first two.

"Where we takin' 'em?"

"I know a place. Try to keep up."

"Try to lose me, Darlin'."

She grinned as she took off in the Impala.

"Eliot?" Sophie asked as he tore off after her.

"Not now, Sophie."

They drove about twenty minutes outside of town, pulling into a field. She opened the trunk while Eliot began unloading the bodies.

"You two. Start digging." She tossed two shovels at Nate and Hardison. "You two, search their pockets. Take anything useful," she said, pointing at Sophie and Parker.

Hardison, Sophie and Parker looked at Nate, who looked at Eliot.

"Just go with it. I promise, I'll explain once we deal with the bodies and can get the hell out of here."

Nate nodded at the other three and they got to work.

"What are you doing?" Eliot asked after a moment, pausing in lifting one of the bodies.

"Making sure the wrong person doesn't get her hands on this stone."

Parker pouted and Eliot laughed. "Good luck with that one, Darlin'. Parker is one damn good thief. I don't even trust my own wallet around her."

"You don't deserve it. Handing out money like that," Parker mumbled.

Eliot ignored her and jumped down out of the van. "Give me that," he said, taking the shovel from Hardison and shoving the Hacker out of the way when he noticed that the younger man wasn't making much progress.

"Yeah, sure. Just muscle people around. That's all you're good for."

"Hardison, if you don't shut up, you'll be joinin' these five. Alive," Eliot growled, finally getting sick of the muttered comments the man had been making over the coms since he had wandered over to the dart game.

She laughed and took the second shovel from Nate. "Thanks. I'll take it from here."

Once again, they fell into an easy rhythm, digging a large square, about a foot deep.

"That's not going to be enough to bury five bodies," Nate said.

"Oh, we ain't buryin' no bodies," Eliot said, dropping the shovel when they were finished.

"Then what- are we doin'? 'cause, ya know, I don't feel like havin' a murder count on my rap sheet," Hardison said.

She dug something out of the trunk and turned towards him. "I got the salt," she said.

"I got the matches," Eliot replied, holding up a pack.

"And I got the marshmallows," she finished with a grin.

Eliot matched it and they got back to work. She doused the bodies with lighter fluid and dumped salt on them. They stood around the hole and Eliot lit the matches, dropping the whole pack in, watching the whole thing light up.

They stood in silence while the bodies burned. Hardison and Sophie had moved upwind of the smoke so they wouldn't have to smell the burning flesh. Parker seemed fascinated by the flames and Nate stood there with an unreadable expression on his face.

When the flames were almost out, the two of them picked up the shovels and began shoveling the dirt back into the square. That served the purpose of smothering the smoldering flames as well as hiding the ashes.

"Okay, what's going on, Eliot?" Nate demanded when everything was packed up and loaded back into the trunk of the Impala.

"In a minute, Nate. First. You," Eliot growled, stalking towards her, a glare on his face.

She backed away a few paces before turning to run.

"Oh, no, you don't."

Eliot picked up his pace and grabbed her wrist before she could go too far. He spun her around, gripping her upper arms as she collided with his chest.

"What the hell d'ya think yer doin'?" he demanded. "You were in way over yer head. What would ya have done if I hadn't decided to come to this bar tonight? Huh?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't going to go that far. I just- needed to distract him long enough for the phantom burglary to take place. I wasn't actually going to take them on. I was just going to make enough money for a room tonight. That's it. I promise."

He stared down at her, searching her face. She had never been able to lie to him, so he knew that she was telling the truth.

"If you ever do somethin' that stupid again, I'll-"

"You'll what? Spank me?"

She smirked up at him and he couldn't take it any longer. He released one of her arms and brought his hand up to fist in her hair, kissing her harshly. Her free arm came up to wrap around his neck, pressing closer to him. They ignored everything around them, focused on each other.

"El. Eliot!"

Nate's shout finally broke through and they reluctantly separated, although just barely enough for them to look at the others.

"Nate, I haven't seen Deana in over five years. Could you just- go away so we can reconnect?"

"No, I will not just go away. What the hell was that all about back in that bar? And who the hell is Deana?"

"Deana Winchester. My boss, Nate Ford. Nate. Deana."

"Dude. I- I know you," Hardison said, pointing at Deana with wide eyes. "You're on the FBI's most wanted list. Eliot, she's a wanted felon."

She blinked. "Pot. Kettle. Although, unlike you guys, I'm on that list for shit I didn't actually do."

"You mean the murders in Baltimore and St. Louis. An- and the bank robbery in Milwaukee."

"Yeah, those weren't me," she said, shaking her head slightly.

"Oh- oh right. St. Louis was a shapeshifter creature who only looked like you."

"You- saw my confession tape." She blew out a breath. "I knew I should have had Ash make that damn thing disappear."

"So, Eliot," Nate said, cutting off whatever Hardison was going to say in response. "What happened to 'I don't work with a team'?"

"Deana ain't my team," Eliot replied, tightening his arm around Deana's shoulders. "She's my wife."

The others stared at them. "Your what?" Parker asked.

"My wife."

"Eliot?"

He shrugged. "We got married in Vegas on her eighteenth birthday."

"You're married," Nate said flatly.

"Yup."

"How did we miss that?" Hardison asked.

"I didn't want you to know."

"You mean you lied to us," Sophie began, accusingly.

"Oh, no, Darlin'," Eliot said. "Don't you dare. You were the one who conned the team, not me. And I never lied. I just left out some information."

"You said you worked together before?" Nate cut in before Sophie could blow up. "I know your file, Eliot. I chased you. How did that not end up getting out?"

"We never got caught," Deana said. "None of our marks could ever agree what we looked like, much less be able to track us."

"Wait. Danny and Cate?" Parker asked.

Deana leaned back against Eliot's chest with a grin.

"You're Danny and Cate?" Sophie asked.

"Naw, Man. Th- that's impossible. Danny and Cate are legendary. Like- like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Bank robberies, home invasions, museum heists. You name it, they did it. There is no way the two of you could be Danny and Cate. Th- they were- were- brilliant. They hacked some of the most secure systems in the country. Yo- you can't even check your email, man."

Deana tilted her head back to look up at him. "Let me guess, they think all you're good for is flirting with women and busting heads."

He shrugged. "Sounds about right."

She laughed. "Yeah, same with my brother."

"You flirt with women?" he asked with a leer.

She shrugged. "Men. Women. Whatever gets the job done."

"Fair enough. Hardison used that once. Pretended to be my partner so we could get into this rehab center to see Nate. Family only policy."

She laughed again. "Nice."

"So, wait. Can we get back to the part where Eliot lied to us?" Sophie said.

"I told ya, Soph. I didn't lie. I withheld information. There's a difference."

"You bloody hypocrite!" She slapped him across the face.

"Listen, Sweetheart. Eliot doesn't hit women, but I do. Touch my husband again and I will rearrange your face."

"Dee, relax. It's okay."

"Why did she call you a hypocrite?"

"About a year ago, we were working this job that Sophie suggested. She withheld important information that caused the job to go way south."

"Eliot took the double cross the hardest and still doesn't fully trust her," Parker added, getting surprised looks from Sophie and Hardison.

"And it turns out he's been keeping information from us, which I find hypocritical, considering his reaction to what I did," Sophie said, glaring at Eliot.

"There's a difference between me withholding information and you attempting to con the team. I'm the Hitter. It's my job to be underestimated by the Mark, giving me- and as a result, all of us- an advantage. I withheld information about my skill level. If those skills ever became necessary on a job, I told you. But no one has ever gotten hurt by not knowing everything that I'm capable of."

He shifted his weight slightly, pointing at Sophie. "But you- You withheld information because you were trying to con us in addition to Blackpoole. That withheld information had consequences."

"Yes, yes, I know. Hardison had to blow up the office and we all had to scatter. I know all of that."

"No, Sophie. You don't. What did you do in the three months between the Blackpoole jobs?"

"Auditioned for a few roles and worked a couple small scale jobs. Why?"

"Nate? What about you?"

"Got drunk and planned the second job."

"Hardison?"

"The usual. Hacked NASA, Langley, et cetera."

"I robbed the Smithsonian," Parker said before Eliot could ask.

"And the six month break?"

"What does-"

"Answer. The damn question, Sophie," Eliot growled.

Deana turned towards him, placing her hand on his chest, trying to calm him.

"More jobs and auditions."

"I stole the Hope Diamond. Then I put it back."

"Hacked the White House."

"I sobered up and moved to Boston."

"Okay, yeah. So business as usual for the four of you. How are those consequences? Huh? That day at the museum? That was my first time out since the first con had gone south. I spent those three months recovering from six broken ribs, a concussion and temporary vision loss- all of which, by the way, I was dealing with when I went to the office to bail Nate and Hardison out- and fought off over half a dozen old enemies because Sterling let it slip that I was playing wounded."

"I thought you said three ribs," Nate said, but Eliot ignored him, keeping his eyes narrowed at Sophie.

"A disaster like that job? It hurts a Hitter's reputation and mine took a big dip. I spent those six months we were separate fixing the mess your double cross created with my reputation. And when my reputation took a dive, so did your protection."

"Wha- what protection?" Sophie asked, her face pale and her eyes wide.

"The protection my reputation provided. The protection that caused other Hitters to think twice about coming after you four. In the six months we were apart, I stopped a minimum of three hits on all of you. Seven on Parker, five on Nate and three each on you and Hardison."

"What?" Nate asked.

"The various mobsters we took down? Most of them still had contacts. Parker had four hits from the Serbians alone."

"The Serbians went after Parker?"

"You saved me?"

"Now how in the hell did you find Parker and I couldn't?"

"You have no idea how lucky you are, do you, Sophie?" Deana asked, taking a step towards the Grifter.

"What do you mean?"

"You burn a Thief, a Hacker or even a Grifter and they'll ruin you. They'll take your money, your good name, your reputation. The hacker will spread embarrassing, photoshopped pictures of you on the internet. You'll probably end up in prison."

She paused for a moment and Eliot could see Parker and Hardison nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye. "You burn a Hitter?" Deana continued. "And it's the last thing you ever do. The fact that you're still alive says a lot about your former friendship. Honestly, it probably says more about El's relationship with Nate than his relationship with you. If a teammate ever double crossed me like you did Eliot, I don't think I would have been as generous."

There was an awkward silence for a while as the team processed that information. Finally, Nate spoke up.

"All right. We should probably get out of the area before those other men wake up and decide to come after you. Deana, will you be coming with us?"

"I can't, really. My brother's back at the motel. I can't just run off on-" She trailed off, narrowing her eyes in consideration. "No, I think I will come. I'll just go back to the motel and tell him I'm taking off for a little while."

"Want me to come with?" Eliot asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'd really rather he not find out about you."

"Tell you what. We'll follow you in the van. We have to get the car anyway. I'll park around the corner. You can leave the Impala with Sam and get a ride to the airport with us."

"Airport?"

"We're based out of Boston."

"Oh. Long way from home, huh?"

"We were on a job."

"And that's the reason you look like you went ten rounds with Ali?"

He shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. "Job went south."

"They usually do. I really should get back. I told Sam I wouldn't be long."

Eliot pulled her into a kiss before letting her get into her car.


	2. The Runway Job

**Title: **The Runway Job

**Spoilers: **specific spoilers for _The Wedding Job, The Bank Shot Job, The Stork Job, The First David Job, The Second Job, The Tap-Out Job, The Two Crew Job, The Ice Man Job, The Lost Heir Job_ and _The Runway Job_, and vague spoilers for the rest of the first season and a half of _Leverage_; specific spoilers for _Skin_, and vague spoilers for the rest of _Supernatural_, especially season 5

**Word Count: **1895

**Author's Note: **So, I personally thought that Eliot gave in way too damn easily when they found out that Tara had been conning them. I also thought he forgave Sophie way too easily after the fiasco with the Davids and Sterling, too. I have enough trouble seeing him agreeing to work with her again after those two episodes that I just cannot see him agreeing to work with someone who had been conning them from the very beginning.

It might just be me, but I just can't see him agreeing to work with Tara, and threatening to walk if they choose to keep her around.

Fae

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"Come on, Eliot. Sophie was right. We need a Grifter. We can't do it without one."

"I refuse to work with her."

"Eliot-"

"No. Absolutely not. She lied to us. You don't con your crew."

"Sophie did and you work with her."

"Doesn't mean I trust her."

All four of them stared at him.

"What do you mean you don't trust her?" Parker asked. "You worked with her just fine."

"I trust her more than I did right after, but I still don't trust her the way I used to."

"Then why were you working with her?" Hardison asked.

"I liked her enough to give her a chance to regain my trust. She's still got a ways to go, but it's better than it was. Besides, Nate trusted her." Eliot paused. "And I trust Nate."

"Then trust me now. In her letter, Sophie said that Tara was good."

"It doesn't matter how good she is. She's been conning us from the moment we met. I don't trust her."

"Eliot-"

"Either she's out. Or I am."

The entire team stared at him again.

"Eliot, you can't-"

"What do you-"

"If she stays, yer gonna hafta find yourself a new Hitter. 'cause I'm out." Eliot turned and headed towards the door, leaving a shocked team behind.

"If I have to choose? I vote Eliot," Hardison said. "Man has bailed my ass out more times than I can count."

"Me, too," Parker added. "He's always there for us. Even when we weren't together."

"You can't seriously believe you can do this without me," Tara said.

Eliot paused with his hand on the handle, turning to see what Nate would do.

Nate looked at Tara before looking at Eliot as he spoke. "I'm sorry. I'd rather have Eliot at my back. Parker's right. He's always been there for us. It's time we return the favor. Tell Sophie thank you, but we'll manage without you."

Tara shook her head. "You're going to regret this. The next time one of you gets kidnapped by Russians because you overplay the Mark, don't come running to me to bail you out," she said, walking towards the door.

"Don't worry. We won't," Eliot said, opening the door for her.

She had to duck out of the way to avoid a fist to the forehead.

"Oops. Sorry." The woman in the hall slipped past Tara and entered the apartment. "Heard y'all were lookin' for a new Grifter," she said.

Eliot grinned.

"What. You're going to accept some yahoo who just happens to show up at the right time? How did she even know you needed a new Grifter?" Tara said.

Eliot's grin tightened.

"Because Eliot called me two weeks ago, complainin' about how Hardison got himself kidnapped by the goddamn Russians when he played Grifter for a con. I had a job of my own to finish up, which is why it took me a while to get out here."

"Hey, Deana," Eliot said, giving her a hug. "Thanks for coming."

"Don't mention it, Sweetheart. M'brother's been drivin' me crazy lately and I could really use a break from him and his girlfriend." She rolled her eyes and Eliot grinned.

He kept one arm around her shoulders as they faced the team. "Guys, this is Deana Winchester. We've worked together in the past."

"And you're a Grifter?" Nate asked.

"Not by trade, but I can do it."

"What are you, then?"

She looked up at Eliot and grinned. "I'm a Hitter by trade, but I can do a little bit of everything."

"A Hitter, huh?" Nate said thoughtfully before looking at Eliot. "And she can do the job?"

"Not as good as Sophie, but she's pretty damn good. Plus, it never hurts to have another set of muscles around, just in case."

"All right then. Hardison, get her an earbud."

"Let me get this straight," Tara said in disbelief. "You're choosing some two bit tramp over the best Grifter in the world just because some redneck cowboy calls her up and asks her to swing by for a couple of rounds?"

Eliot clenched his jaw and both of his fists in a very strong effort not to hit Tara.

"That's enough, Tara. Yes. We're going to go on the word of some redneck cowboy. The last time we didn't listen to Eliot, Sophie and I nearly got killed," Nate said.

Tara stared at the five of them. "You know what? Fine. You do what you want. You're obviously going to do it anyway."

"Oh, and Tara?"

She turned back and looked at Nate expectantly.

"Sophie is the best Grifter in the world. Not you."

She glowered at him and stalked off as Eliot closed the door behind her.

Deana watched her go, grinning at Eliot before turning around to face the rest of the team. She simply blinked when she found Parker standing right behind her. "Hello," she said.

"You didn't jump," Parker said, frowning.

"Ah, no. I've got a- friend who doesn't understand the concept of personal space. I've gotten used to him randomly appearing behind me. Can I have my wallet back?"

Parker pouted and held the wallet out.

"Thanks, Sweetheart."

"So, Eliot. How come Deana hasn't shown up in any of your files?" Nate asked.

"'cause you haven't been lookin' in the right files," he replied.

"Naw, naw, Man. That ain't possible. I've found all your files."

"Couldn't have. Not if you don't have all my aliases."

"The only people Deana Winchester has ever worked with are a John and Sam Winchester, and occasionally a Robert Singer."

Deana raised an eyebrow and Hardison shrugged sheepishly.

"I've been looking you up since Eliot introduced you. We like to know who we're working with. Pretty impressive record, by the way."

She shrugged. "Understandable. And you don't have my whole file, either. But thanks, I guess. Even though I didn't do about half the stuff on there."

"St. Louis?"

"Not me," Deana said, shaking her head.

"What aliases don't we know about?" Nate asked.

The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds before Eliot shrugged. "Danny and Cate," he said.

"D- Danny an- Danny and Cate?" Hardison asked in shock. "Naw, Man. No way."

"Yes, way," Deana said.

"Those two are legendary thieves, Man. They're like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. You name it, they've done it."

"Yeah. We know. We did it," Eliot said.

"How is that possible? You're a Hitter. You don't do the hacking. Or the thieving. Or the grifting, for that matter."

"Just because I don't doesn't mean I can't. We all have our roles on this team and mine happens to be hitting, not hacking, thieving or grifting. But who's the one who pulled off the successful grift when Sophie couldn't be involved, huh? Mr. Iceman? Or Dale, the movie producer? Or hell, even that job in Nebraska."

Parker shrugged. "He has a point."

"You can't even check your email, Man."

"I showed you what you wanted to see. You wanted to see the dumb jock, so that's what I showed you. I was playing up the Hitter stereotype."

Nate and Hardison stared at him.

"I underestimated you, Eliot," Nate said. "I suppose that's the reason I only caught you once."

"Naw, that's because I never went after things insured by IYS after that first time. One time I did by accident, I returned it as soon as I found out."

"Hey, El. Can you introduce your friends?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Dee, this is Nathan Ford, ex-IYS Insurance Investigator and the boss. The blonde is Parker, thief extraordinaire. And that's Alec Hardison, our Hacker."

Deana glanced up at Eliot and he nodded once, knowing what she was asking. "Nice to meet y'all. I'm Deana Spencer."

The other three blinked.

"Spencer?" Nate asked.

Eliot tightened his arm around her shoulders. "My wife."

"Your- Now, how in the hell did we miss that?"

He shrugged. "I didn't want you to know."

"We got married in Vegas on my eighteenth birthday. Just the two of us and some Elvis impersonator. Those types of weddings are pretty easy to hush up, especially if you don't know what you're looking for. Besides." Deana shrugged. "Pay a little extra, and they'll keep anything hard copy only."

"Hey, Man. I got a question. Back when we were working the Mosconi job, I asked you, point blank, in the kitchen if you had ever been married, or if you had ever come close. Why did you say no?"

"Because I didn't want you digging into things that were better left secret. I knew you wouldn't find anything, which would piss you off. When you couldn't find the information on your computer, you'd start harassing me to tell you more, which would piss me off. That would lead to me punching you in the face, which would piss Nate off. I figured it was better for everyone involved if I just didn't say anything. Besides, I'm not even sure the thing was completely legal."

Deana shrugged. "Maybe we'll redo it one of these days. Anyway. What's the job? I haven't played a good con in a while. Been a little busy."

The five of them settled down around the TV screens and Nate went over the information he had gathered from the client. When Hardison brought up the information about Mrs. Pan being an aspiring fashion designer, Nate looked at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"We are going to make all of Mrs. Pan's dreams come true," he said before turning to look at the team. "We need a Caprina. Yes, a Caprina will do nicely."

He walked off and the other three members of the team looked at Deana to see her reaction.

"Huh. Apparently it's not just an angel thing," she said before shrugging and looking at Eliot. "Hey, can I get something to drink?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Come on."

He walked into the kitchen with her. "Beer?"

"Thanks."

Hardison and Parker followed them. "That didn't bother you?" Parker asked.

"What? The fact that he said something cryptic and then walked off? No. I've got some contacts that do the same thing all the damn time. I'm used to it. Unfortunately," she muttered under her breath.

"The same friends who appear behind you like I did earlier?"

"The very same."

"You have weird friends."

She shrugged again, taking a swig from her beer. "I suppose. Honestly, I'd call them more unwanted allies than actual friends. There's only one of them I actually like. The rest are a bunch of self-righteous pricks that look down on me for who I am in one breath, while demanding everything from me in the next."

Eliot frowned slightly. He didn't keep up with her work too much while they were apart. It opened too many possibilities for someone to track, but maybe he should start. It sounded like a lot had happened since he had last seen his wife and he wasn't sure he liked feeling like he was on the outside of something important in her life.

She caught his eye and shook her head slightly.

He nodded once, understanding her silent communication that she'd tell him later.

"All right. We should get started on the prep work before Nate comes back and finds us all standing around his kitchen, not doing anything.


End file.
